


First Days of Sun

by MandolinOrange



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: All that other stuff that is usual of DEH?, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Drug Use/References, Fire Watch AU, Firewatch au, M/M, More to be added as they happen, Suicidal Thoughts, treebros
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-19 04:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11305425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandolinOrange/pseuds/MandolinOrange
Summary: Evan Hansen takes a job as a fire lookout in Shoshone National Park, expecting a peaceful three months of silence and nature. However, he didn't anticipate running across an old high school classmate, especially one who has more issues that he does.





	1. Week 1

_  
_ _Dear Evan Hansen,_

_I know, I know, I promised that I'd only send you one letter a week this summer and let you get your work done, but I couldn't help it! I miss my son!_

_I hope you're having fun and getting that fresh air you need. Dr. Shermin said it's good for you to be out in your "element," so I hope he's right about that. I just wish it didn't have to be in the summer! I barely have any classes this summer so I finally have some free time but you're not here so I'm not too sure what to do..._

_Angie from work had her baby! His name is Jaxon, which is a fine name and all but if it were me I would have spelled it normally. Her older daughter is Aemilia so I don't know what else I expected. Oh well!_

_Okay, I'll leave you alone. Have fun out there and be safe out there! Oh, and don't forget to write to Jared! I'm sure he misses you too._

_Love, Mom xoxo_

  
Evan read over the letter his mother had sent him yesterday with a small smile on his face. He did miss her, but the fact that he had only been here a week and his stress had gone down tenfold told him it was a better place for him at the time being. He had a blank piece of paper on the desk in front of him, waiting to be written on, but he hadn't gotten around to coming up with any words yet. Instead, he leaned back in the wooden chair to gaze out the windows the surrounded him.

From his spot in the small, square lookout tower he could see forests and mountains stretching infinitely into the distance until they turned blue-grey and faded away. He could see the treetops from this height.Past the clearing that was made for his tower the horizon mostly belonged to Engelmann spruces and limber pines, with a few others thrown in here and there. Shoshone National Forest was probably the most beautiful place he had even been if he thought about it.

The forest made him different.

In high school he was some quiet, weirdo, nerd. He couldn't talk to anyone with turning into a rambling mess. He'd obsess in his mind over how ridiculous he sounded without being able to turn the thoughts, or his mouth, off. That, or he couldn't formulate any words and would end up a sitting duck of the conversation until people just didn't talk to him all together. Either way, people avoided him, and he couldn't deny that he was lonely.

He hadn't gotten any better since he graduated. He didn't talk to anyone in his college classes (which he was grateful he even had in the first place), just attended and left as fast as possible so he could make it to his part-time job on time. He made it through his freshman year, but only barely. He wanted to quit so many days due to dwelling  on his two biggest concerns: 1. Not having any friends, and 2. No having any future.

The last time he had done anything at the national park he was almost constantly under the supervision of a park ranger, but now that he was old enough he had an actual job here, one where he could take in the nature however he wanted, it was fine that he was alone. It was under his terms, and he was actually doing something productive, so that was fine, right?

He took in the afternoon skyline and mulled over his thoughts until the transmission coming in from his walkie-talkie, which was charging on the other side of the room, caught his attention. 

"Two Forks Lookout, are you there?" asked a man's deep voice on the other side, between the crackles of radio static. He spoke like he was reading something, "Evan Hansen? Hey, it says here you were an apprentice park ranger a couple summers ago? Oh yeah, I think I remember you! The one who got really into it? I think I remember that name."

Evan scrambled to get out of his chair and over to the walkie-talkie, not that he wanted to respond but he had to. He already knew this would be his least favorite part of the job and he dreaded how he'd have to radio in if anything ever went wrong, or if he even suspected something was off. He hated phone calls and this was about the same, just that you had to let the person on the other end finish talking (even when it was embarrassing like now) or end up with the terrible feedback noise and miscommunication.

"Ha, yeah, that was me," he responded sounding pained, unplugging the device and pacing back and forth. "I'm at my tower right now, is everything okay? Should I be out working? I probably should be, shouldn't I?"

"You're fine," the man laughed, "you've only been here a couple days. You've got a little more time to get comfortable before you have to put your nose to the grindstone." He paused, "I'm Raymond by the way, at Chimney Rock Lookout. I guess I'm kind of your supervisor."

 "Oh, uh, nice to meet you, if you count this as meeting, I guess," Evan pushed out. He was very unprepared to talk to his supposed boss.

"Relax kid, you're pretty much on your own out here," said Raymond, "you and the trees. And any other rangers or visitors you run into, I suppose."

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," said Evan. He didn't get a response. Did he blow his first conversation here? He set the walkie-talkie down on the edge of the desk and picked up the first pencil he found to finally start on the letter for his mother.

 

_Dear Mom,_

_Things are pretty good here. I haven't done much besides hike around and explore the area. But that's good, right? No disasters yet. The weather's nice so far but it'll probably start to get hot soon. They don't expect much rain this year, but thunderstorms can still happen and then the lightning is really the problem._

_I don't think Jared will be upset if I don't write to him. I don't even know if he knows I'm here._

_This'll be a good summer. I'll keep writing you unless I get super busy. See you when I get home._

_Love, Evan_

  
He looked the letter over and noticed two things.

The first was how much he hated his hand writing. It was very small and nothing but scribbles. He forgot how much he didn't like it because of the fact he was usually typing anything he had to say onto his laptop, but this was his only option out in the wilderness.

The second thing was that he didn't know how to talk to his mom. He sounded so formal and boring, and the only things he said were about the weather for God's sake. And besides that, it was too short for it to even be called a "letter."

The boy shook his head and fished out a U.S. National Parks Service official notepad and rewrote the whole thing, trying to make his handwriting neater and failing. He groaned a bit, followed by adding the date to the smaller sheet of paper - June 2nd - and folding it up. He put it in one of the many envelopes he had stacked up and delicately wrote out the address to he and his mom's apartment and then slide the letter away into the large, hiking backpack that also held a compass, map, binoculars, disposable camera, and some ropes for climbing.

The nearest park ranger station, the place where employees could send and receive their mail, was about a two hour hike away. Evan knew he needed to be getting used to walking and climbing for hours on end when his job "officially" started in a few days. He'd be travelling to the ranger station once or twice a week to get mail (and extra supplies and food when he'd need them) while also doing his rounds in the Two Forks Region of the park. This would include looking for fire hazards, reporting any potentially dangerous animals, picking up trash, and making sure any visitors weren't misbehaving or getting into places they shouldn't be.

It was only about 3 o'clock. He'd head out to drop off his letter now.

Evan picked the walkie-talkie up off his desk and hooked it onto the belt loop of his pants. He threw the backpack over his shoulders and pulled the straps tight around his arms. He stepped out the one-roomed watch tower, locked the door behind him, and made his way down the old, wooden steps until he reached the bottom. The tower was about 40 feet tall and he could very much tell when he was on ground level, standing next to the generator that gave him enough energy for the small amount of electronics that he needed to live comfortably.

He'd head north-east from there, following one of the few telephone lines in the area and trying to make himself more familiar with everything. He made sure his shoes were sufficiently tied and then made his way through the meadow he lived in, past the outhouse he hadn't gotten quite used to using yet. Sticks poked and grass ran across the hairs on his legs. He prayed that he wouldn't manage to get lyme disease by the end of the summer, and debated unrolling his socks as tall of they would go.

Actually, that was a good idea…

The way Evan was going was an actual trail for the most part, defined by it's dirt path and how it was free from too much debris (besides one giant log he had to hop over early in the journey). He figured, were it fall he'd crunching leaves under his foot with every step he took. Or maybe not actually. Pine needles were going to be the norm here and they left much to be desired in the satisfying sounds department. The smell was nice at least.

An hour passed, and then another. His time was filled with gradually having to stray from the path. He made his way carefully down slopes, across bridges made of fallen logs, and up some rocky ledges he wished were avoidable. He had to check with his map and compass more than a few times along the way, and he scribbled in anything he could that would help him remember where he was; “HUGE pine,” “canyon where you WILL die,” and “fence” with a rough, sketchy lines were among a few of them.

The trees in his path slowly spaced themselves apart to reveal another meadow, and only a little ways past this meadow was a small parking lot. Oh, civilization...  Across from the asphalt area was a neat, cabin-styled building with a green roof. A tall flagpole stood near the entrance, displaying the U.S. Flag on top and the green U.S. Forest Service flag underneath it. Evan pulled at the straps of his backpack out of habit, and made the final steps from the woods to the station quickly. When inside, Evan enjoyed the wave of air conditioning that he knew was better not  become accustomed to. He walked up to the counter and fumbled to explain himself (“Hi, I'm Evan Hansen, I'm the fire watch at Two Forks Lookout. I was here earlier this week to get a letter, and now, well, I have a letter to send.”) as the envelope in his hands wrinkled. The woman at the counter gave him a smile and took it from him, commenting on the long hike to get there.

“Well, it's for my mom,” he said. Was that sad or endearing for a twenty year old? The woman just kept the same smile and didn't say much else as she took the letter to a mail bin in the back. She wrote down a few things with her back turned to the boy so he decided the interaction was over and it was time to head back. He lingered in the cool air for a moment but then forced himself to open the door, back out into the sunlight.

The trip back to Two Forks was moderately the same and uneventful. He chose to take the long way around a few cliffs that he didn't feel confident enough about climbing just yet, but it was worth it for the view he discovered on the way. The mountains in the distance and the bluffs near him lined up just right and with the sun now not directly overhead, it was really a spectacular sight. He stopped for a moment to catch his breathe and to take it in. He was stopped for a good two minutes before rummaging through his backpack for the disposable camera that he had bought at the local drugstore before heading out to the Shoshone. He wound up the plastic Kodak, hoped that the lighting would look okay on film when he got it printed, and held it up to his eye. He lined the picture up nicely, squinting furious at the sunlight as he did, and then snapped the picture. The flash went up and the camera snapped. Even if it didn't develop well he would remember what it looked like. At least, he hoped. He went to return the camera to his back-pack, but was distracted by a sudden noise.

Evan heard pebbles sliding around not too far away from him. Soon after, he heard thuds, one every couple of seconds. He pulled the backpack over his shoulders and surveyed the area. About twenty-five feet from what was in his picture, he noticed a person. It was a young man whose long legs were effortless carrying him across the boulders that made up this area as if they were just ordinary stairs. When he neared the top and things got a bit steeper he hoisted himself up with his bare hands and his Converse shoes scraping against the rock. Evan could only watch as the young man went. He was now standing at the peak with his hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans, not bothering to push his long hair out of his eyes now that he was settled. Evan also noted his attire, and how he was dressed more like some kind of grungy mall-rat than someone out hiking. He didn't have any backpack or equipment that people this far into the park usually had, especially when taking on a cliff like this.

“Uh, hey,” Evan found himself speaking up, but he got no response. He spoke a little louder, trying to sound more sure of himself and to make up for the bit of distance between the two of them, “Hey, you should be careful.”

The long haired boy's head whipped around to stare at Evan, and he did nothing but stare for what felt like forever. He had small eyes and a very angular face, but that wasn't what Evan was thinking about. He was thinking about how he completely ticked off some person just enjoying their time in the woods.

“That's all just, be careful please,” Evan sputtered and made to leave. He was headed in a direction that would take him longer to get home, but that was fine with him. He took a few steps until he stopped cold from the voice behind him.

“Yeah, I work here,” said the tall boy, not sounded very humored, “so I'm good.”

Evan found himself turning back just as the other boy was turning away. This guy was another employee, and they seemed to be about the same age. Was there someone else out here, his age, who had the same lame interest in trees and nature that he did? He found himself speaking suddenly.

“Really? I'm a fire lookout, at Two Forks. That's like, south of here, I think?” Evan leaned down to check his compass, that he attached to his belt loop on the journey. “Yeah, south. What do you do here? You don't look very dressed for the job, but I mean, no one told me a dress code specifically, so...” Evan felt very self conscious at that moment due to his green park-official shirt, khaki shorts, and thick, brown boots.

There was a long pause before anyone said anything else.

“Do I know you?” the other boy finally asked. He tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear whiling watching Evan suspiciously.

“Oh, I'm Evan,” he answered, and then it hit him.

“Connor, we went to highschool together,” the tall boy said hesitantly, confirming Evan's thoughts. They went to more than just high school together, they'd been in every year together (besides one maybe, Evan had heard that Connor had flunked once.) Connor was the kid that threw a printer at their second grade teacher. He was the one people called psycho and said was gonna bomb the school one day.

This was... awkward.

“Yeah, we did, didn't we?” said Evan, rubbing the back of his neck. He hated seeing people from high school in public, but now he was stuck in a forest with someone from there for three months. He'd stay in the Two Forks region and never leave from then on, yeah that would be fine. No, wait, his mom's letters... If he didn't answer them she'd take off work and drive down there and probably get eaten by a bear searching for him. He couldn't…

“Yeah...” Connor trailed off, eyes slowly moving between looking at Evan and looking north across the low plateau he was on. “Well, this is weird. See you around, Evan Hansen.”

Connor threw a hand up in a slight wave, turned, and left, strolling down the path that led north. Evan watched him go, seeing his hair hopping off his shoulder as he took each step down until he was out of sight.

He took a deep breath then continued his way back to his watch tower, which he never wanted to leave ever again.


	2. Week 2

It was June 9th and Evan had become accustomed to getting work done around the park. The sunrise would wake him up every morning and he’d take his time getting ready. He spend about an hour eating his Bran Flake cereal and putting on his uniform, all while he watched the orange glow come up over the mountaintops in the distance. There were two days early on where he ended up sleeping through it, but he was pretty good about it now. When he was ready, he’d grab his backpack full of supplies and head down the wooden stairs of the lookout tower, starting his route. 

He started by heading north through the meadow and passed the generator, running into the first canyon that was kept forgetting how close it was. He’d sit down on the edge, scoot his way off, and repeat that two more times before his feet were on flat ground. Evan could handle doing that now compared to the first couple of times where he was sure he wouldn’t be able to land it and would fall down the cliff. 

Why he, the most danger-prone and nervous guy on Earth, took this job, he would never really be sure of. He inwardly sighed. The place made him at least a little happy, he guessed. 

From there, a winding path lead down the cliff side. There were a few fences in places but mostly large rocks that kept things in place. Eventually the path split when it reached flat ground. Continuing to the north was the Thorofare Trail (one of the few trails on his map with an actual name) and to the west was the beginning (well, actually  **end** ) of the Thunder Canyon Creek. He went north this time, having decided it was best for him to switch every other day. He had a small cave he had to walk through before he reached the start of the Thorofare Trail. Just as he was about to step into the opening of Cave 452 (a name that he wish was a  _ little  _ more creative) there was crackling sound from his belt. 

Evan fumbled to get the walkie-talkie off of its belt loop. He heard his name being called from the other end. The voice belonged to Raymond, another lookout and “overseer of new guys.” He’d called every couple of days to check in on Evan, so the boy assumed this would be no different. He gave a simple greeting and waited. 

“Hey, Evan, I have something I need you to do,” the man said, and gave Evan a second to respond. 

“Yeah, anything, whatever you need,” responded Evan, sounding a bit too eager. There was no way he wouldn’t help. After all, it was his job.

“The phone line I use to talk to park service is out somehow, which means we’re kind of cut off out here,” explained Raymond. 

“What can I do? Can I fix it?” said Evan, rather frantically. What did “cut off” mean? Did he mean that nobody could get to them if something went wrong? 

“I’m not sure about that,” the man said with a laugh, “but you  _ can _ hike over to where the wires run in your area and report back if it’s down or not. If it is, I can track down a ranger to get someone on it. If not, well…” 

“No problem, I’m really close to there anyway so it’s no big deal. Even if it was, I’d still do, so don’t worry about it,” said Evan, once again knowing he was saying too much when just a “sure” would have sufficed. 

“I believe in you,” Raymond said, and then the line went silent. Evan hooked the radio back onto his belt and headed into the cave. 

It took a second for Evan’s eyes to adjust to the inside of the cave, but it wasn’t too bad. Light could be seen coming in from both ends, even though the exit was around a corner. It didn’t go any deeper underground, just had been carved out of a cliff side it seemed. To the left was a rusted gate, held shut with a padlock. Curiosity rang in Evan’s head, but he wasn’t going to risk getting tetanus when it wasn’t even what he was supposed to be doing. 

Fog gathered at the exit of the cave, hovering lowly over the little bit of creek in the area and making the wet grass sparkle. Evan noted how it was a chilly morning, but it got warm fast here. The fog made the scenery look a little creepier as he headed up a hill and the trees got more dense. 

As soon as the thick forested area came, it went. Evan walked through a canyon made of only brown rocks and shrubs. The uneven ground was much harder on his feet than the woods, but his boots were thick enough to ignore  _ most  _ of it. None of the land here was flat, unlike back home. That was okay with him; the beauty outweighed the inconvenience. For example, the overlook he found himself at now. He thought he was already at a fairly low height, but when he lookout he saw a canyon the went on and on until it started to raise in the distance and become one with the mountains. All of the prairie grass was in shadow from the hills that surrounded it. 

Luckily, the boy got to walk around it. He could see his shadow in the canyon, looking about the size of an eyelash from here. The telephone lines hung in the air parallel to him. It shouldn’t be much longer. 

And it isn’t. The hill he’s on is nothing but telephone polls, and when he reaches the top his eyes follow the wires down, down and onto-- he can’t believe it. 

The telephone line is loose and dangling to the ground, not connected to the next pole as it should have been… 

And it had Connor Murphy standing right in front of it. He was wearing straight-legged, black jeans and boots of the same color; another day not in the standard park-worker attire. Did he even work here, or was that something he made up the first day Evan had seen him? And did he… No, he couldn’t have been the cause of the downed telephone line, could he? He was at the scene of crime, so to speak. But Evan didn’t have the confidence to march down there and accuse him of all that. 

Or maybe he did. It  _ was _ his job after all. He could do it. 

Evan began his trek down the hill, until he got Connor’s attention. When he saw the blank expression on the long haired boy’s face he lost all certainty that he could do this. 

“Hey, you didn’t, uh, do this, did you?” Evan tried to play it cool, but that was impossible; one, because it was Evan, and two, because there was no way you could try to blame someone subtly.

Connor turned to face Evan head on, his eyebrows furrowed. 

 “You think _I_ just _jumped_ up there and _tore_ down a **power line**?” asked Connor, his voice pressing into almost every other word and his hand motioning between himself and the line. “The line that _we all_ kind of _need?”_

“I-I mean, you were here, and there wasn’t a storm or anything else to tear it down, but that’s okay, we don’t really need com-lines anyway. We can do something else, like, like, smoke signals. Yeah, I learned about them in boy scouts when I was younger I’m sure we could do that.” Evan rambled, trying to defend himself. He didn’t notice but Connor’s expression changed as he carried on, from one of anger to one that was sort of amused. Evan wasn’t sure, that didn’t seem right.

“Yeah, really nailing the job requirements there, Hansen,” Connor retorted, sarcasm in his voice. Evan stopped talking, just looking at him confused until the boy went on, “Smoke signals. Fire lookout. Bad idea. Duh.” He pretend to hit himself in the forehead, an overly done gesture aimed at Evan at how the idea was a bad one. 

“So, you didn’t tear it down, right?” said Evan, just to make sure.

“No!” Connor stressed, just loud enough it caused Evan to flinch. 

“Sorry,” muttered Evan, looking at his shoes and not in Connor’s eyes. He shifted back and forth on his feet until scrambling for his walkie-talkie. He held up a finger to the other boy, motioning for him to wait a moment, and then pressed the button to talk in his radio. “Hey, uh, Raymond, I am at the comlines and one of them _ is  _ down,” he paused, “and Connor Murphy’s here too.” Another pause until he finished with, “In case you needed to know that. You probably didn’t.”

“Thanks for checking, Evan. I’ll see if I can get a ranger out there sometime soon,” the man on the other side of the radio said. “Tell Connor to answer his radio sometime like he’s suppose to.” The radio clicked and the conversation was over. Evan turned back to Connor. 

“He said to answer your radio more,” relayed Evan cautiously. He watched Connor roll his eyes. 

“Yeah, sure,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes and then turning away. Evan assumed this was the part where Connor would walk away. He’d walk back to his lookout tower (wherever it was) until Evan found him again the next week somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be, acting all aloof. He couldn’t hate it here as much as he acted like, or else he wouldn’t have taken the job in the first place, right?

Evan found words coming out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Do you-do you even like it out here?” Evan blurted out, even though he had trouble formulating the right words. “I mean, you don’t follow any of the rules and-and you act like you’re just  _ miserable.”  _ He wanted to clap his hands over his mouth but that would be  _ too  _ ridiculous looking. ‘Rules,’ what was he, the biggest square in the world? And he meant  _ angry  _ not  _ miserable _ . Evan knew what it was like to be at a perpetual state of miserable, but Connor just looked ticked off at the world. 

There was silence, or as much silence as you could achieve out in nature with the crickets and birds chirping. 

Connor then let out a curt laugh. 

“I  _ look  _ miserable because I  _ am,”  _ said Connor, he turned back to Evan, and Evan tried to look away. Connor talked with his hands and wasn’t afraid to throw them up in the air to make his point. “It’s a bunch trees that my parents thought would make me better, and guess what, they don’t. Once summer’s over everything goes back to the real world and the fresh air doesn’t matter.”

“I-I, no, I meant,” Evan tried to come up with something but couldn’t.  He didn’t mean to get Connor so worked up. He had made a joke a minute earlier and now he was yelling and sharing more than Evan was prepared for. A couple of days ago he was thinking that since they were about the same age maybe there was a chance they could… No way, not after these two terrible impressions. 

“Yeah, have fun, Evan Hansen,” he sneered, walking off north, over the hill and out of sight. 

Evan let him go without saying another word. He was tired of making things worse every time he tried to speak. 

He tightened the straps on his backpack and kicked at the dirt beneath his feet, hard. Why was he like this? Normal kids- no, adults (that just made it worse)- knew how to talk to people without making them scream back you. Everyone had issues but apparently Evan was capable of hitting them directly without even trying.

The young man retraced his steps back to the cave and then headed west, through Thunder Canyon, past Jonesy Lake, until he arrived back at the lookout tower, the whole while dwelling on his failed conversation. That wasn’t as much of an area as he had planned to, but after what had happened he felt drained. He climbed the stairs, unlocked the door, and kicked off his hiking boots and backpack as soon as he entered. 

He hoped he wouldn’t see Connor again this summer, for both of their sakes.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sighs... Will these boys ever get along?


	3. Week 3

It was the weekend and that meant more hikers in the park than usual. More hikers also meant more people getting lost that Evan had to help, and more rule breakers that he had to lookout for. The young man set himself up in an area where three of the trails ran near each other, figuring this was a good a spot as any and that it was where he could reach the most people. He walked along the trails, not too far, with his binoculars always in his hands in case he saw something on the horizon that didn’t seem right.

He’d run into a few couples throughout the day who needed directions or to be reassured they were going the correct way, but most everyone was doing alright and would give him a simple “hello” as they passed by. In addition, there were no troublemakers (at least none that he had seen) and Evan was beyond thankful for that. 

It was getting late. The sky was turning yellow followed by orange beyond the trees and hills in the distance. The park would be closing soon too, aside from the campers who were supposed to stay in designated areas closer to the parks entrance. Evan did one last scan of the area, and when he deemed it clear, he made his way through Wapiti Meadow and toward the familiar Lake Trail until he got back to his watch tower. By this point there was only a sliver of color left in the sky. The stars in the sky grew clearer and maybe even closer as he climbed the stairs up Two Forks Lookout and into the little place he had called home for weeks now. 

He shimmied through the door, dropping the key ring onto its designated place on his desk, sliding his backpack onto the floor next to the entryway, and kicking his shoes off beside them. His feet didn’t throb as much as they used to when he started the job, but they still didn’t feel  _ great  _ at the end of the day. Evan stumbled around the room, lit only by moonlight, until he switched on his small desk lamp. He sat down in his chair, ruffling his hair and rubbing his eyes. Before him sat a letter from his mother that he hadn’t found the time nor words to respond to yet. Her updates were always about what gossip was happening at work or in her classes, and how Jared’s mom said hi, and how she missed him. He didn’t know what to say. He sure did look at rocks and not spot any fires. 

He figured he’d give it a go, picking up his pen in hopes that something would come to him. Unfortunately, all he had was groans after staring at the blank piece of paper for five minutes. Nothing. Maybe tomorrow, he reasoned with himself. Tomorrow something interesting would happen that would be worth writing home about. 

The sun was gone by now. Evan went to the shelf to his right and pulled off a book he had been working on getting through for the past week titled  _ The Fourth Estate.  _ It had been left behind by whoever lived here last, along with a few others in the series. It was a bit annoying though, seeing as the only ones that were left were the fourth, sixth, and seventh books. He wasn’t too attached so far. It was just something to pass time. 

He read through a chapter of the mystery novel, not retaining much of it as his mind always drifted to other things while he was trying to focus. He got the gist of it: the main character detective went to interrogate the victim’s mother who knew too much about the murder. After the chapter, Evan let out a yawn and decided it was time for bed. He had been going to bed much earlier here than he would when he was at home since he was getting up so much earlier here as well. He got up to return the book back to it’s place on the shelf, changed into a pair of blue, checkered pajama pants, gingerly flipped off his lamp, and then headed back to bed. He slept under only one sheet, as the summer nights were still warm here and he was accustomed to his apartment with air conditioning. 

Evan lay there, curled up on his side with his eyes closed, but no sleep came. The crickets outside chirped too loud and his mind raced too fast. He was used to his thoughts keeping him up almost every night, but that didn’t mean it didn’t bother him every time it happened. For whatever reason, his brain thought it was a good idea to remind him of every embarrassing thing he had ever done in his life within an hour of him getting into bed. 

He remembered how he would go up to groups of kids in Kindergarten and try to talk to them, but everyone already had their own friends from pre-school so he didn’t know how to join their games. He remembered in 4th grade when he accidentally printed out the same 30 pages of one of his favorite Pok é mon on the classroom computer. Or in 6th grade when he got dressed in the bathroom stall when he had to change for gym, and then proceeded to get a lecture from the terrifying gym teacher about how all the other boys changed in front of each other and there was no reason Evan couldn’t. Sometime in the 9th grade he spilled water all over an entire science lab table; at least it wasn’t some chemical and everyone died but he still felt terrible about it. Or the parent-teacher conference that year, the one that they asked Evan’s mom to take off work for so they could tell her how her son’s grades were slipping drastically. Or how the time he realized he was getting worse and he actually got the courage to talk to his school’s counselors, only to be berated about where he planned to go to college and not the fact he was sure he wouldn’t make it through high school at all.

He tossed back and forth for an hour, squeezing his eyes shut hard, hoping it would force him to fall asleep even though it never did. He didn’t want to get back up and read again, he just wanted to sleep. He turned to lie on his back, hand across his stomach and staring at the ceiling. He could see through the corner of his eye the little, red light that meant his radio was charging. Further away than that was an even smaller red light, showing where another tower was somewhere out there in the park. 

The walkie-talkie’s light flashed suddenly and it gave off it’s trademark static sound before a voice came out of it, one Evan didn’t expect to hear this late at night, or at all for that matter. 

“Hey, uh, Hansen, I hope this is the right channel…” said the voice. It sounded a little higher pitch than it did in person, but it was unmistakably the voice of Connor Murphy. Evan sat up in his bed as fast as he could with his feet on the floor, but froze as soon as he was about to get up. He didn’t know what Connor wanted from him, and he did want to bother the other boy so he should just let it go to voicemail, right? Wait. No. That wasn’t how this worked at all.

“You’re probably asleep, shit, okay, well,” Connor went on, sounding a lot less sure of himself than he usually did. “Alright, I just wanted to talk to you about something but I’ll, uh, catch you some other day I guess.” 

Evan didn’t want to, but he got up. He walked across the room, turned on the desk lamp, and flipped through the list of papers on the clipboard that hung on the wall. It contained what channel number belonged to what lookout. He, Twin Forks, was on channel five, while Connor at the Thorofare Lookout, was number nine. He set his radio, and then pressed the button, even though he didn’t know what to say. 

“Hey, Connor, I’m here,” he said in a quiet voice, “is everything okay?”

There was silence for a moment until the radio rang with a second of static again. 

“Yeah, everything’s cool. I-well-I,” Evan was surprised just how much Connor was struggling to speak, that was usually  _ his  _ thing, “I wanted to apologize for the other day, for, uh, snapping at you.” There was a pause, possibly for Evan to say something, but he was speechless. He didn’t expect Connor Murphy to talk to him ever again, and he  _ certainly  _ didn’t expect him to come apologizing. Connor continued, “You don't have to say anything, I just figured I'd try to. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just get like that sometimes, and it sucks and I can't help it and I don't know why I’m like this.”

“It's okay!” Evan cut in, hearing how Connor was getting upset at the end of his sentence. He was never on the receiving end of a person in stream-of-thoughts-mode. “I’m sorry for the other day too…” He hesitated, about to reveal more about himself than he was usually comfortable doing. “I can't talk to people, like, at all, so everything that comes out of my mouth comes out wrong and that's what’s happened both times I've talked to you and that's probably what's going to happen now because if I'm bad at talking in-person I'm even worse over the phone. I don't blame you for getting mad at me, trust me, I'd get mad at me too, I do.”

“I’m not mad at you,” said Connor, a small smile in his voice, but then it sobered. “I mean, I was, but it’s fine now, and I’m gonna try not to be. And I’m sorry if it happens again. I’m not lying when I say I can’t help it, I really can’t!” Evan was amazed and a little scared by how fast the other boy’s mood changed. He’d start a sentence just fine but then by the end it could sound like he was going to yell or cry. 

“It’s fine, I believe you!” assured Evan. He didn’t know why he did have the things he did, maybe Connor was the same way. 

“Okay,” said Connor, calm again. There was another pause, Evan didn’t know if it was tranquil or stressful. He wondered if he should at least say a goodbye for now, but before he could Connor was speaking again, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Small talk? That was unexpected.

“Oh, I usually read before bed,” replied Evan. That wasn’t the truth, he knew, but he couldn’t let on that his mind kept him awake with everything that had ever gone wrong in his life. And it wasn’t a total lie, he had been reading earlier.

“Yeah? What?” said Connor.

Evan was extremely skeptical if he was actually interested or not, but there was a chance. What if Connor actually was interested in him enough to make small talk and care? This was what he’d needed all through high school, right? It was a person his own age to talk to. He took a deep breathe. He was only risking staying the same by not talking, right? It couldn’t hurt…

He went on to explain the title of his book and the plot thus far, gradually easing himself into the desk chair as he carried on. He told the anecdote of how the books were left behind and how he didn’t have them all. 

“Dude, I think I found the second one in a supply cache; it’s called  _ Death Strikes at Two _ or something like that,” Connor cut in and Evan let out a laugh. What were the odds?

“It’s a mystery series, maybe whoever was here left them scattered around for people to find. Maybe there’s hidden clues we’re supposed to follow somewhere, like if you go to a certain page number and a certain line has a word that leads you to the next book’s location. Or-ah, no sorry,” Evan caught himself.

“Hey, you’re fine,” assured Connor, “it’s cool that you get interested in things.”

That was one way to put it, Evan shrugged, not the way  _ he  _ would put it but he didn’t seem to be getting on Connor’s last nerve nonetheless. 

They didn’t spend much longer together on the radios. Evan continued with the small talk and asked if there was any books Connor liked, to which the boy responded, “Uh, I brought an Edgar Allan Poe collection, which sounds really lame to say outloud.” Evan promised it wasn’t. 

The two hung up soon after, specifically after Evan yawned loudly into the walkie-talkie in the middle of a sentence. He once again switched the lamp off and headed to bed, this time with a smile that was probably too big on his face. He fell asleep easily for once. 

He woke up in the morning and enjoyed the sunrise before his job started. He wondered if Connor liked the sunrises here, and then shook his head at how incredibly cheesy that thought was. He did his duties for the day like normal (staring out the watchtower, tidying up the trails, and helping out the one hiker he came across) and then turned in, as schedule dictated, at night. 

He was surprised to find Connor calling him on the radio that night, too.

And he did again the night after that. 

Their conversations mostly consisted of formalities and getting-to-know-you topics. Evan’s favorite color was blue and Connor’s was red. Connor’s favorite food was cheese garlic bread and Evan’s was lasagna (or his grandma’s brisket, if he was feeling particularly Jewish that day). Evan  _ said _ he liked sports, but couldn’t name a single team to back it up, and Connor said he played baseball as a little kid, but couldn’t care less about it now. They went back and forth with simple questions as the nights went on, never getting too deep and keeping the conversations lighthearted. Connor would slip in a joke here and there that Evan would laugh at but never have the courage to tell any of his own. 

Five nights passed and Connor dropped a hardball. For some reason that night it hit Evan hard, much harder than it should have. 

“So, why are you here?” the boy asked, and it took Evan a while to respond. He was practically frozen. 

“What-what do you mean?” he tried to buy time. 

“Why are you,” Connor elaborated, “a college kid and momma’s boy, living out here, alone, in the woods?” 

“I’m not alone, I’m talking to you right now,” said Evan, stalling, not knowing when he would  _ have  _ to give an actual answer. He  _ couldn’t  _ give an actual answer.  _ Hey there, I’m a  _ _ Dendrology nerd with lots of baggage and prescription drugs, nice to meet you!  _ He couldn’t just say that! He had to come up with something normal. He had to lie. 

“Evan.” Connor sounded serious. 

“I, just, you know, it’s good job experience and it’s something I’m actually interested in so I thought, why the heck not?” answered Evan. That was a fair enough answer, and not a  _ total  _ lie. It was vague enough and true enough to be acceptable. 

“Yeah, sure,” Connor was not impressed. Evan guessed that that was supposed to be their Breakfast Club moment, where all the kids come clean about what fucked up reason they went to detention that day. The two of them had only been on friendly speaking terms for five days now, he wasn’t ready to blurt out things meant for the movie’s climax yet. 

The was a quiet moment, one Evan knew he caused and one that he wanted to end. 

“So… what kind of music do you like?” Subtle Evan, subtle. Connor seemed to take the bait though, eager with that topic. 

Connor’s favorite band was Radiohead. A lot of people thought it was Nirvana, but he explained that a lot of their “deep, meaningful” songs were actually just words that didn’t mean anything. Connor liked music. Evan wished he could relate but he only listened to whatever top 100 hits his mom played on the radio. That got a laugh out of both of them.

A half an hour later they wished each other good night.

Evan knew it sounded so lame, like something a child should be happy about and not a 20-year-old man, but maybe he could write home to his mother that he was making a friend for the first time in a very long time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They did it! They talked without a bad ending! Just a lot of mental health getting in the way. 
> 
> Also, it's been so long since I've used a walkie-talkie. Is that how they work? I sure don't remember. Pretend these special, high powered ones do. 
> 
> (Sillies aside, thanks everyone for reading so far! You're my motivations to actually finish a story for once in my life! <3)

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! I haven't dove too far in the DEH fandom but after one of my friends' showed it to me, writing this fic was the only thing I had on my mind. Bare with me for I'm quite bad at updating on time, but I'm actually motivated so, it'll be good. 
> 
> Disclaimer: These boys are not going to be following the job description to a T and all I know about actually fire lookouts is based on a videogame and some googling, so, cut me some slack haha


End file.
